The Great Maze Collection
by iCarly1969
Summary: Collection of entries for The Great Maze Challenge/Competition
1. Hi, Ginny

Entry #1 for the Great Maze Challenge/Competition: _The gong sounded but you were so tired the night before that you wake up late. Tell me about someone who slept in._

* * *

The smell of burnt food woke her up. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. Then, she turned over and buried her head under the pillow with a muffled groan. She wanted to sleep! She spent one night trying to finish marking the work for the muggle students Harry tutor, since she was free and he was busy. She was seriously regretting it.

The smell grew stronger. She wrinkled her nose. Giving up on sleep, she threw off the blanket regretfully and sat up.

'What time is it now?' She wondered as she stretched. She then glanced at the clock.

8.30AM

She blinked. The number didn't change.

She almost fell out of the bed trying to get to the closet. Without looking through, she grabbed the nearest outfit and went to change. It was barely ten minutes before she was out of the bathroom and was running down the stairs.

She had, after all, promised Harry that she would go to his school to pass him the work.

If only she knew how to apparate!

The burnt smell choked her when she was going to go past the kitchen. Curious about the origin of the smell, she looked into the kitchen.

"George?"

He looked up from the pan. "Oh, you're up!" He sounded really cheerful. "I tried making you breakfast, but. Well," he continued, gesturing towards the burnt food while grinning sheepishly.

"What are you doing here?" She could feel her eyebrow twitch. She could also feel a migraine beginning to grow.

George in the kitchen was always bad news, since he couldn't cook to save his life despite numerous (failed) attempts to learn and being a genius at making potions. He also never came to look for her without a reason. So to have him trying to be nice to her by cooking her breakfast...

"Is the world ending? Or do you need me to help you do something again?"

He looked offended. "Can't I be nice to you because I want to?"

"You're never nice to me because you wanted to be," she replied.

"Ah, well. About that..." he hedged.

"Yes?"

"You're already late for the course, aren't you?"

Ginny looked at the clock.

9.00AM

She had forgotten about it.

"So?"

"Would you mind helping me with one thing?"

She pursed her lips, although they both knew that she would agree.

"It's your fault," she told him, childish or not.

"What was my fault?"

"You could have woken me up!" Childish or not, she was mad at him.

"Well, so, would you help?"

That was how she ended up outside of Neville's house wearing a cardigan,a shawl and a hood, completed with wrinkles charmed onto her face and knee high rain boots.

"I hate you, George," she muttered mulishly.

The door swung open.

A little bonus:  
"Hey, Ginny, why didn't you turn up?" Harry sounded a little upset.  
"George happened."  
"Oh. So what actually happened?"  
She glared at him. "Get me an alarm clock."  
"What?"  
"I am never sleeping in again. How do you get the bloody alarm clock?!"


	2. Blast It!

_Entry #2 for The Great Maze Challenge/Competition: _You should get that [alarm clock]. But you're off to a good start. You shiver as you hear the call of dark creatures call out within the maze. Hold your torch out and maybe you'll find Hagrid along the way.

* * *

The shrivelled trees branched out into claws made of wood, stripped of life and bark, holding only a few withered leaves. The moonlight struggled to penetrate the canopy of branches, leaving the shadows beneath them so much darker, _alive_. Tonks pressed on, refusing to let her fear get the better of her. She was supposed to be trained for this, after all.

Besides, she needed to get away from the creatures she knew was after her. Why, she knew not, however, she knew they wanted her blood. Why were her missions always going wrong? This was only the second mission she was going on, so why was she being chased through a godforsaken forest when, by all rights, she should have been in the middle of a pile of paperwork in her office?

'Just a little more,' she thought. A little more, and you'll be home. Or at least, at the safehouse they said was around here somewhere.

The call of the creatures grew louder as they started catching up. There was no safehouse in sight, and Tonks was beginning to despair. The exhaustion was catching up, and she had tripped over one of the stones. She could fight her way out with spells, she supposes, but it would be really hard. She had no gauge on what creatures were following her or their numbers. What if she underestimated their numbers?

By a stroke of luck, she found a small cave. The mouth of it was barely large enough for her to wriggle through, and she knew that the creatures were huge. There was no way for them to enter after her short of blasting the whole cave down, somehow.

After getting in, she wriggled down the tunnel and ended up in a cavern. It was surprisingly spacious, large enough for her to be able to stand up. It was dark, without a trace of light.

"Lumos," she whispered.

The tip of her wand lit up. It illuminated a small sphere surrounding ti. Feeling slightly more confidence, she straightened up and turned around, surveying the place. The howls were still there, just fainter, separated and distant. Tonks allowed herself a smile.

Now, she just needed to find the safehouse and activate the portkey.

There was one more tunnel, one that she could walk in. In fact, the height was taller than her. It did, however, lead downwards.

Tonks bit her lips. Alright, she decided. There's nothing to lose from going that way. Holding her wand out ahead of her a little, she descended into the tunnel. She was nearing the end when a face loomed into view. She yelped, as did the owner of the face.

The shock turned into relief and surprise. "Hagrid? What are you doing here?"

The half-giant looked relieved too. "Ah, well, I was looking for a blast-ended newt, a new species. It turns out that there are many vetelas around the place, though, and they are quite thirsty for blood. Especially half-breed blood." He looked disgruntled at that.

Then, he brightened up. "But you are here too! We can get out of here together."

Tonks smiled. With Hagrid, she need not fear. But…

"What about those blast-ended newts?"

_A little bonus:_

"Hi, Tonks!" Remus greeted, sounding excessively cheerful. "You look… hot."  
She glared at him, singed hair still hanging limply down her face. Even if she was a metamorphogus, she could not switch away the burnt look. "Hot?"  
"Well, I was going to say burnt, but.." He broke off as he dodged a swat to the head.  
"I'm being truthful!" He protested weakly, knowing that it was not going to help him.  
"Right."  
Remus positively wilted under the glare, which had been turned up a few notches. He would have cowered, except that Kingsley was there, as was Sirius and James. There was no way he would let them see. He was absolutely not a coward. She was just scary.


	3. Dang It

_Entry #3 for The Great Maze Challenge/Competition : _ Luckily you didn't get [burnt] by your torch, but now Hagrid is willing to follow you through the maze. There's a pile of dragon dung ahead and a shovel. Get to scooping while you complain about a dirty job.

* * *

"It's all your fault," Fred muttered, heaving away with the shovel. Their wands were being 'taken care of' by their teachers. To ensure they do everything manually, of course.

"My plan was perfectly fine. You should have started running when I told you to. Then we wouldn't have been caught," George retorted. His nose was wrinkled as he worked on the same task as his companion.

"Hagrid wasn't meant to be there!"

"Well, it's all good for you two, I suppose. At least you did something to warranty being here," Lee Jordan grumbled. "I did nothing!"

"Well, you did nothing all right."

Lee glared at Fred. "I was innocent!"

Fred shrugged. "Too bad, I suppose. The teacher never believes any of us."

"Besides, you never had any problems with being in detention with us before," George contributed.

Lee turned his glare to the other twin. "Well, we never had to shovel dragon dung before!"

"It's not our fault that the teacher gave us such a dirty job!" George protested.

"How were we supposed to know that this is what the teacher would make us do?" Fred added.

"If you had known, would you still have done it?" Lee asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Well," Fred began.

"We would have just made sure to be extra careful we wouldn't get caught," George finished,

"There's no way we would give up a chance to pull one on ickle ronnikins."

"Ron is not even in this school," Lee sighed.

"He isn't, but Percy certainly is. And Percy is acceptable as a substitute for Ronald dear," George smirked.

The two of them exchanged a glance. Lee looked between them.

"Do I want to be part of this?" he asked.

They turned identical wicked grins towards him, the shovels and the pile of dung temporarily forgotten.

"Yes," they hissed in unison.

_A little bonus:  
_Percy was having a fine day. Penelope has taken a look at him in the Great Hall and he had gotten an 'O' in his potions and transfiguration assignments. He stepped into his dorm.  
A pungent smell greeted him. He frowned, trying to place the smell.  
He followed the smell to his bed. Removing his pillow, he spotted the little present left behind for him by a certain someone. A certain group of someones.  
As he marched towards the door, he took a deep breath and bellowed, "FRED! GEORGE! LEE JORDAN! I SWEAR-"


	4. The Cookies

_Entry #4 for The Great Maze Challenge/Competition: _That was a [detention] you could have done without. Someone walks past you mumbling "The cookies are in the oven". What's he blathering about?

* * *

The detention with Snape went about as well as expected, what with the amount of cauldrons they had to clean. Seriously, Harry was ready to believe that Snape dirtied the cauldrons for the sole purpose of having them clean it up.

They slunk back to their dormitory at about 9, exhausted and grumpy.

They were walking down the corridor to the stairs when a Weasley appeared on the other end of the corridor. Fred or George (Harry still could not tell them apart) strode briskly towards them, without sparing them a glance. As he brushed past them, Harry could hear him mumbling, "The cookies are in the oven. I hope he hasn't burnt them yet."

"Cookies in the oven?"

"Dunno, man. He could be joking," Ron replied.

They watched him disappear round the corner the two of them came from.

"Want to follow him and find out?" Harry suggested.

"Well… It's Fred, you know," Ron said, after some hesitation. "Or George. It isn't really a great idea to follow either of them."

The excuse was half hearted at best, and it was weak. Harry could tell, and Ron knew that he could tell.

"So, are we going?"

"Let's," Ron decided, although his I-know-I'm-going-to-regret-this face was present.

They took off after Fred (or George).

Surprisingly, he was not going to the kitchen, or his dormitory.

Instead, he was going towards Hagrid's Hut.

"What's he going there for?" Ron sounded surprised.

Harry did not reply, instead opting for going over to the windows of the Hut.

"Oh…" Ron trailed away as he caught up with Harry and saw what was inside.

Inside, both Weasley twins were standing by the fireplace, where the fire was blazing. Hagrid, standing with them, was holding a platter of burnt black things.

_A little bonus:  
_"Here, try some of these cookies!" Hagrid gave them a few of the things from the tray.  
The twins stood to the side, smiling a little guiltily as they watched.  
Unable to say no, although he pleaded with both Harry and his brothers with his eyes as he gingerly took the charred bunch of thing and carefully brought it to his mouth.  
Harry grimaced as Ron swallowed the cookie and tried to smile. He looked constipated.  
Then, without warning, he turned a little green.  
Turning tail, he rushed out of the hut and they could hear the retching as Ron threw up.  
Hagrid looked dejected and devastated. "It was bad?"


	5. The 13th Floor That Simply Does Not Exis

_Entry #5 for The Great Maze Challenge/Competition: _Those cookies would turn anyone [green]. You walk a bit but realize you've come to a dead end. In the hedges, you see a strip of paper with words on it: Why don't some buildings have a 13th floor? Write about someone short and I'll take you to the last fork.

* * *

This was the twelfth building without a 13th floor that he had visited. Flitwick sighed, marching out of the elevator to look for the next building that seemed like it was likely to have a thirteenth floor.

The owl he had gotten had told him to meet Hagrid at the thirteenth floor in the area. "Why the thirteenth floor?" he grumbled, tired and eager to get this over with. Why they wanted him and not one of the other teachers to get this supply of items from Hagrid was beyond him, though he suspects that Dumbledore may want them to bond. That was not likely, since Hagrid was tall enough that he almost never notices when Flitwick was in the room.

Another thing his height was to be blamed for.

For the umpteenth time, he cursed the ancestry that blessed him with this size. Nobody took him seriously, not even his students, and that was alright, people underestimate him and he preferred to treat his students as equals, however, when it came to Hagrid…

He had almost been trampled enough times to be unforgiving of his height and Hagrid's inability to look down when he walked, if only to check what he would be stepping on.

Before his thoughts could speed down that road, the elevator arrived.

Luckily for him, this building had a thirteenth floor. 'Finally,' he thought.

When the elevator stopped, he stepped out eagerly, into a room that was definitely not Hagrid's. Or at least, he had a hard time believing it was Hagrid's.

It was garishly decorated, covered in glitter and pictures of unicorns and dragons.

Flitwick stared.

"Ah," Hagrid boomed as he stepped out of the kitchen. "Finally!"

He gestured at the kitchen. "Come, professor, I have something to show you."

Flitwick stared even more. The apron Hagrid was wearing was so bright it was blinding. Like everything else he had seen so far in this place, it was covered in glitter.

"Ok," he managed as he scuttled in after Hagrid.

On the table was a whole crateful of things.

"Here! What Dumbledore requested!"

Flitwick smiled at him before charming the crate to make it pocket sized.

He picked it up and pocketed it.

He was about to leave when Hagrid called out.

"Want some toffee?"

He grimaced. Whether from the idea of ingesting the toffee, or from the decor of the room, we might never know.

_A little bonus:  
_"Oh, sorry, I didn't see you there!" Hagrid apologized as he stepped aside, knocking over a vase as he did so. Flitwick levitated it with a longsuffering sigh and smiled patiently at Hagrid.  
"It's alright, Hagrid," he reassured.  
Hagrid smiled at him nervously. "Ah, well, I'll be going then."  
"Wait."  
"Yes?"  
Flitwick looked at Hagrid. "What was with that apartment I picked up the items from?"  
"Oh, that, it was Madam Malkin's apartment, she lent it to me for a while. Did you like it?" Hagrid beamed.  
"Uh, yes,.." Flitwick trailed off. "One more thing. Why was that building the only one in the area with a 13th floor?"  
"That's simple! She can't remember her block number and address, only the general vicinity of that house, so she simply charmed the surrounding houses to skip the thirteenth floor. Then she could tell her visitors that they would be able to find her on the 13th floor in the area."  
There was nothing Flitwick could say in response to that, even though speechlessness was rare for him.


	6. Somebody's Secret(ly in love)

_Entry #6 for The Great Maze Challenge/Competition: _Since Hagrid is now staying in Madame Malkin's flat, she has decided to accompany you instead. Bye Hagrid. Here's some [glitter] as well. The pair of you walk and stumbled upon a strange piece of paper on the ground: If I have it, I shouldn't share it. But if I share it, I won't have it anymore. Share one about someone you know.

[This one has an implied relationship between two dorks in love with each other. Denial is not just a river in Egypt, after all. If you're not comfortable with it, don't read the bonus.]

* * *

He grinned. Scorpius was reading, in the shade of the willow tree by the lake, completely tuning out the rest of the world. There was hardly anyone else around, since everyone had went to Hogsmeade.

Perfect.

He snuck up on Scorpius and placed a hand on his shoulders, smirking when Scorpius startled. Even if the wand pressed against his throat did not feel comfortable. He had to admire the Slytherin's response time, though.

The blonde put his wand away when he recognised his assailant, opting to give him a wilting glare instead. It was acidic enough to make even James Potter cower, however, he had long since mastered the art of being unaffected by that particular look. The immunity and indifference was an acquired skill, though, since he had been on the receiving end of the look enough times.

In fact, as far as Albus was concerned, Scorpius looked like a affronted kitten when he was glaring at Albus.

Or a disgruntled, adorable and fluffy kitten when he glared at Albus for waking him up in the morning. Because, surprisingly, he was not a morning person.

"I told you I don't like it when you do that!"

That snapped Albus out of his train of thoughts. He grinned innocently at Scorpius. Time to get back to business. Or what he had looked for Scorpius for, at least.

"So…" he dragged. "How are things going between you and Rose?"

"Rose?" The glare morphed into confusion.

"Yes, Rose."

The confusion stayed.

"Rose Weasley, sister of Hugo Weasley. You know, the girl you go to the library with?" Albus was aware that he was coming across as overly sarcastic, but the brain-to-mouth filter simply starts malfunctioning every time he was around Scorpius, and he can't take back what he said. Besides, the thing he was going to ask Scorpius about left a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn't like thinking about it.

Albus wanted to know if Scorpius liked Rose too. Then he can make sure Scorpius would be happy. That was all it was. It's not like he was jealous, was he?

The scathing look he was given made him wince a little. He wasn't really trying to be condescending.

"That was unnecessary. I know who you were referring to. What I had wanted to know was the reason behind that question. And. who told you that we go to the library together?"

"You aren't?" Albus felt confused now. "Going to the library together, I mean? I thought that the two of you study together."

"We do!"

"Where?"

"In the classrooms?" Albus could hear the 'duh' in Scorpius' voice.

"Oh…"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why were you asking?"

"Nothing, really." A pause. Then, "I was just curious."

"Curious? We've been studying together for almost three years now, Albus, and you've never cared before. Why are you starting to get _curious_ now?" Albus could hear the emphasis on 'curious' in his question. He could also see that Scorpius' eyebrow had almost disappeared into the fringe. Not that it needed much work. The fringe was long enough to hide most of his eyebrows most of the time. Albus wondered what it would be like to touch that hair.

"It's really nothing! It's just," Albus hesitated. Oh well. Might as well get it out.

"Rose told me she wished that she had went to Beauxbatons Academy. The school with that horrible headmistress, Madame Malkins, or something like that. Then then she wouldn't have met you and wouldn't have fallen in love with you." He finished the verbal vomit in a single breath, in hopes that Scorpius would take a while to process it.

Scorpius just stared at him blankly. "And?"

Albus could see the exact moment the words registered and the gears clicked in place.

"She _likes_ me?" He sounded like he was half in shock.

"She loves you," Albus corrected. Then, "You didn't know?"

"I...Of course not!" Scorpius sounded as flustered as he looked.

Albus thought that the blush looked good on him.

"So…" He suddenly remembered the promise he made. "Oops."

"Oops?"

"Well…" Albus trailed off.

"Yes?"

"It was meant to be a secret…"

"A secret," Scorpius said flatly. "Good luck with breaking it to her that her secret was no longer a secret, then."

"But…"

"I'm not helping you with this, Albus. You dug your own grave. And I'm not going to do anything about it. I'm not interested in girls."

A little flutter of hope arose at that.

"So… you're interested in guys?"

Scorpius gave him a withering look. "I'm not interested in dating, period."

(So that was what being rejected felt like.)

(Oh well. At least he hadn't explicitly stated that he was not interested in guys.)

(He probably stood a chance.)

(Emphasis on the PROBABLY.)

_A little bonus:  
_"Oh, hi!" Rose greeted cheerily the next time she met Albus.  
Albus looked at her a little guiltily.  
Rose didn't miss the look.  
"What is it this time?"  
When Albus didn't reply, she prompted, "Come on, I won't tell anyone!"  
That just made Albus feel that much worse. He didn't want to lie to Rose, though.  
"I might have told Scorpius that you liked him.." He studied the carted while waiting for the blow-up.  
It never came.  
He looked up at her. "You're fine with it?"  
She pursed her lips. "Well, you owe me one. A really big one."  
He looked at her in confusion.  
Her grin looked like the incarnation of pure evil. "Go on a date with him, then we'll be even."  
The confusion became more pronounced.  
The grin disappeared. "Look, I know that you have a crush on him, too, alright? And you stand more chance than I do. We're too good as friends, I don't think he'll ever see me as anything more than that, but you? You're a guy, for starters. And he prefers guys over girls. You can make him happy."  
"Scorpius is gay?!"  
He was well aware he sounded too incredulous and disbelieving, but this… it was not something he had seen coming.  
"Uh, more bisexual, but…"  
"But?" he inquired. A new thought occurred. "Wait, how did you know?"  
Rose winced at that.  
"He told me…"  
"And you weren't supposed to tell anyone else," Albus finished.  
Rose looked determinedly at the door behind Albus.


	7. The Shopping Trip

_Entry #7: _No [dating] for anyone. You're stuck in a maze. You come to a dead end and decide to take a nap. You wake up to find that they stole your wallet. Talk about losing money while I take you back to the last fork.

* * *

Lucius decided that enough was enough. He simply could not tolerate Severus' horrible sense of fashion anymore. As such, he decided that there was only one thing they could do to remedy this - go shopping at Diagon Alley.

Of course, Severus tried to wriggle out of it, but Lucius tracked him down soon enough (he kept tabs on his friends, there were not many of them around, after all).

This was how Severus had ended up outside of Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions with only a small bag full of galleons in his pocket. Lucius stood at the door, waving at him to get in. Not noticing the quartet watching from across the street, he went in.

Once inside, Lucius sent him to the fitting room with a bunch of robes he had selected, as well as other outfits. Severus had, predictably, balked at the price, albeit discreetly and unnoticeable if one was not Lucius.

Of course, when they finished the selection, Lucius offered to pay. Severus' pride demanded for him to decline it, and he started fishing for his wallet.

His fist closed on empty air.

He looked down sharply. 'Where did my money go?' he thought, going through his other pocket too.

Lucius noticed when Severus actually started panicking and asked him what was wrong.

Severus looked up at him with murderous intent in his eyes. "Someone took my money pouch," he growled.

Lucius was surprised at first, before being outraged. Who would dare to take his friend's money while he was around?

His eyes fell on a certain someone standing outside the shop.

With a tight smile, he said politely, "Excuse me."

He exited the shop with a swish of his robes. Severus watched him go.

Outside the shop, Lucius confronted Sirius.

"Where's the pouch?" he demanded.

Black looked at him in the eye. "How am I supposed to know?"

He had the guts to sound as though he was in the right.

Lucius told himself to calm down. "I know that you stole Severus' pouch. Now, return it."

Black sneered at him. "And why should I do that? The slimy git is not brave enough to come and get it himself, is he? So he sent his loyal little guard dog. Who's also more of a pedigree dog, bred for looks and not ability."

Lucius could see the other three morons coming towards them. The anger at the insult towards him, and his friend, had him acting before he think, though.

Black was nursing a bloody nose before he knew it.

"You do not insult us and get away with it, Black." He closed his eyes.

"Accio pouch."

The pouch landed in his hand.

"I gave you a chance to own up and apologise. You wasted it," he told Black calmly.

"You do not cross a Slytherin without repercussions."

He left the idiot to his friends as he stalked back into the shop.

_A little bonus:  
_They were in the great hall having dinner when the slytherin duo, Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape, swept past them. They did not deem the Gryffindor quartet worthy of their glances.  
Sirius made a face at them when they left. He then drank his pumpkin juice in one swallow.  
Their next lesson was transfiguration.  
Remus noticed that there was something off about Sirius as they walked towards the class.  
"Hey, Sirius, are you alright?" he asked, concerned.  
Sirius looked at him dreamily. "Remy? Oh, hey, Remy!"  
He crashed into Remus and hugged him.  
Needless to say, Remus was too shocked to react, especially when Sirius started licking him, his hands wandering dangerously close to that territory, trying to kiss him. In the middle of the corridor.  
Neither of them noticed Snape as he strode past them, a faint hint of a smile visible for a split second.


	8. Not Your Shadow

_Entry #8: _You had better [guard] your [money] better, Carly. But you decide to go straight at the upcoming fork and two Indian twins walk by hand in hand. Are they the best of friends who do everything together, or does one of them wish she were her own person?

* * *

When they were younger, they were inseparable. They did everything together, went everywhere together. In fact, that was how their accidental magic manifested - their parents found out that they literally couldn't separate the twins that one time they had tried. It was a running joke in the family.

Parvati was always the more outgoing one, though, and she was also more adventurous. Padma had always trailed after her, like a faithful shadow, afraid of being left behind. People started addressing her as 'Parvati's twin', even their parents and their friend, Pansy.

Draco was the only one who called her Padma. They don't meet often, however, as her parents thought that the Malfoys were bad news.

She misses his company. He's the only one who was content with spending a whole day beside her with a book and some cookies while Parvati went off to play with Pansy.

* * *

There was one time they were taken to a muggle shopping mall, because their parents wanted to expose them to the world they coexist with.

There, she met a boy her age, with emerald green eyes and unruly hair.

He had asked her for her name and she had introduced herself as Parvati's twin. He had asked her who Parvati was. That was the first time she realised that she could really be herself. She told him that her name was Padma.

She never found out his name, and she never met him again.

Until Hogwart's, that is.

* * *

It was before first year started and they were shopping for supplies. She was waiting outside Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions when she saw him standing inside. She could not remember when, or where she had met him, but she remembered the eyes.

His gaze skipped over her.

She could not help the disappointment, even though she had not expected him to remember.

She was just another stranger who had met him a long time ago, after all.

Parvati, standing next to her, spotted him too. She leant over excitedly, whispering into Padma's ear that the boy was Harry Potter.

* * *

Ravenclaw was a new start.

It was refreshing, to be known as herself, not as somebody else's twin.

Oh, don't get her wrong, she loved her twin a lot, but she wanted to be Padma, not Parvati's twin. She didn't want to be forever someone else's shadow.

After a while, though, people started knowing about Parvati. The Gryffindor girl.

People who she had not interacted much with in her first few months there started to call her Parvati's twin, too.

Everyone, except for the teachers and her dorm mates.

* * *

(She almost wished that she had went to Beauxbatons, like her parents had suggested. If only to be recognised as the girl who was good at studying, the one who might be a little quiet but was nice enough to be around, instead of the twin of the girl who was everybody's friend, the girl everyone notices. But she didn't hate Parvati, and she didn't want to be separated from her twin. That was why she came to Hogwarts in the fist place, and she did not regret it. Even if she still her twin's shadow.)

(At least they both made it out of the war.)

_A little bonus:  
_When Harry Potter asked her to be his date at the library, it was a dream come true. Oh, she knew that she never caught his eye, since he was less than subtle about liking Cho Chang, but at least he had seen her as an acceptable second choice, even if second place is just the first place for losers. He had noticed her before her twin, and had deemed her good enough.  
Then she realised that he had called her 'Parvati'.  
"I think you got the wrong person," she told him.  
Harry simply blinked at her, confused. "Wrong person?"  
"Parvati's my twin, actually. My name is Padma."  
"Padma Patil?"  
"Yeah." She spotted her twin. To avoid further conversation, she pointed behind him. "Parvati's there."  
He turned around. "Oh, thank you!"  
He didn't look back at her.  
She went back to her books. They were easier to deal with than people, after all. She told herself that it was fine that nobody really noticed her.  
(liar, liar, pants on fire)  
(she went with Ron, eventually, because being second best was better than nothing at all.)  
(or at least, that's what she had told herself)


	9. Falling For You

_Entry #9: _It's sad to live in someone else's [shadow], especially your [twin]. Quick, hold onto your companion for dear life as a gust of wind picks you off the ground.

* * *

She had entered for the lottery on a whim. The nargle who had taken her necklace told her that she should do it.

After she had put her name down, she had forgotten about it.

So, if came as a bit of a surprise when she received a letter telling her that she had won herself a trip to a fashion show in New Orleans. Soon after that, she received another envelope containing a ticket to New Orleans and a slip of paper with an address. It stated that she was to share a house with another winner.

Her father told her that he hoped that her roommate would not be riddled with wrackspurts.

Her friends all encouraged her to step out and go on the trip, to explore more and have fun.

She went, with a backpack containing the essentials, without her enchantments. It was a muggle lottery, after all, she didn't want to have to obliviate the innocent and hapless muggle who she would be rooming with. Although they might have to be obliviated, if they see the gulping pimply who likes to follow her around. She never quite minded, but it was quite annoying sometimes, to have to look out for things like cabinets to let it in when muggles come around.

Imagine her surprise when she met her roommate.

"Madame Malkins?"

She looked up from the book she was reading. "Oh, hi, dear, the rooms are upstairs. The door in the middle leads to a storeroom that is filled with junk and dust, so I do not recommend for you to enter, or even open the door."

Luna smiled at her. "Alright, thanks for letting me know!"

Madame Malkins opted to nod at her and go back to her book.

She opened the door in the end, to check if there are any heliopaths hiding in there. She did not want the house to go up in flames.

The fashion show was, surprisingly, more fun than Luna had thought it would be. There were no nargles around to cause mischief. As the day went on, though, she lost track of where Madame Malkins went.

Before long, it was time to go home. She found Madame Malkins at the exit.

"Well, dear, let's go back, shall we?"

She smiled at the lady.

They were halfway home when the wind started to pick up its pace. It grew stronger, little by little, first lifting their scarfs and blowing their hats away, soon picking up little things like cars.

"Oh dearie me," Luna commented as she took hold of Madame Malkins' hand. "I hope that it was not the crumple-horned snorkarks again." She was not a minute too soon.

When they were swept off their feets, literally, Luna was not quite sure what she had been expecting. Being thrown around like a rag doll, perhaps, or being swirled around in circles as if in a whirlpool. What she had not expected was for the wind to lift them up, gently, bringing them higher and higher up, away from the ground. It reminded her distinctly of riding on the thestrals. She started to enjoy it.

A glance at her companion revealed that she disagreed. Madame Malkins had her eyes shut against the world, silently muttering to herself, as if ready to apparate away, unlike herself, who was content with watching the world below her as it shrank. She noticed that the two of the were the only non-objects lifted off the ground.

They were above the clouds when the wind stopped. The force that held them up was yanked out from under their feet suddenly, leaving them no balance and no orientation.

Immediately, they plummeted. Her stomach swooped, her heart fluttered. It felt like how she had felt when she had seen Neville on the battlefield, sword in hand, that day he decided to stand up for himself and the world.

They didn't fall for long before she felt herself squeezed into a tube, landing on a pile of leaves in someone else's backyard.

'Oh' was the only thing on her mind as she laid there on her back, out of breathe, her heart still hammering away, staring at the sky. She could see the wrackspurts gathering

"Oh."

"Oh indeed," Madame Malkins said. "That was quite the adventure, wasn't it? I'm glad I didn't miscalculate."

Luna could see her and the hand she offered. She took it as Madame Malkins advised her to go in and wash herself.

She simply smiled and thanked Madame Malkins.

_A little bonus:  
_When she stood at the altar that day, saying 'I do', she remembered the day she fell from the sky, with Madame Malkins holding her hand. Only, she imagined that Neville was the one there instead.  
After the reception, when everyone was gone, she turned to him and buried her face into his chest.  
"What's wrong?" he asked softly, holding her tighter.  
"Nothing's wrong," she replied. "I just remembered the day I first realised that I had fallen for you, that's all."  
"The wrackspurts never left, you know," she added, almost as an afterthought.  
He patted her on the back affectionately, burying his face into her hair.  
"I know. They never left me, either."


	10. (Second) Chance

_Entry #10: _What a sudden gust of [wind], but handled that perfectly. Madame Malkin has had enough though, so now you're on your own. You continue on but snooty man is in here spouting blood purity propaganda. Is he a Malfoy, a Black or another pureblood?

* * *

He had never meant to insult her.

At that time, he was humiliated and hurt, rankled by the teasing and the way their words cut too deep, however, he had never meant to hurt her. He knew that they could never be together, that they were never meant to be, however, he tried to at least be her friend, to be there for her. He never meant to ruin their friendship.

It hurt more than he thought it would when she refused to look at him in the corridors, and choosing to glare at him the few times she did so. He had tried to salvage their friendship, he really tried, but apparently, saying that word out loud once was enough to ruin it beyond repair.

As always, Lucius was the first to see through his nonchalant behaviour.

Except that, this wasn't the Lucius he knew. Before summer, Lucius was a person who believed, with all his heart, in what his instincts told him was right and not what the world around him tells him was right. Before summer, he was compassionate and caring in the cold way of his, willing to go the extra mile for someone he saw as a friend, not just an ally. Before summer, he was someone Severus could rely on to watch his back. Before summer, even though he was a natural at manipulating, he never used that skill without a good reason. Before summer, he preferred to take a neutral side and while he was ambitious, he had never seen fit to disrupt the lives of others. Before summer, he lived by the code of "If you don't disturb me, I won't disturb you."

This Lucius…

This Lucius was vicious, living up to the Malfoy reputation of stabbing everyone in the back. This Lucius was just as manipulative, and just as quick to use his ability to twist everything around to his own advantage regardless of whether or not it benefits the other party. This Lucius still lurked in the shadows, as a predator this time, out for weakness, when he used to be content with being safe. This Lucius was overly ambitious, suddenly actively spreading and publicising beliefs he had never truly believed in before summer.

This Lucius ruined his last chance at salvaging even a cordial relationship with Lily by openly sneering at her muggle born status in front of him and the gryffindors, then proceed to spout all the blood purity nonsense that Severus had never held in much regard, nonsense that Lucius before summer would have laughed at the idea of even believing. Severus had tuned him out, focusing more on his own potions book while standing to the side, letting Lucius finish what he wanted to say. He was not noticed, which was fine by him, and he did not notice what was going on until he heard Lucius saying that his opinion was shared by all the slytherins.

It was true, to a certain extent, but majority of them never acted on the belief and they had always respected people who excelled on their own merits, muggle born or not.

Severus had always been part of the minority who had never particularly liked muggles, but whose opinions on purebloods were never that high, either.

But that day, Lily had seen him standing in the corner and she had approached him at night, demanding to know if he had actually believed that propaganda, from the start. She wanted to know if he had just been playing with her the few years in their friendship.

He didn't know what to say. Aside from Lily, Lucius was his first real friend, and somewhere deep down, he still saw Lucius as the confidant he used to be. And while he had never seen the purebloods as better people than muggle borns, a lot of the muggles he interacted with and read about were never that much better, either. They were just as narrow-minded, if not more, as purebloods, and they were at least as dangerous, in their own ways, too.

So he kept his peace. He had clammed up and was unable to comment, and Lily took it as an affirmation. She had nodded, blinking furiously, the betrayal clear for a few seconds before being clouded by anger, and stalked away. Severus' world had shattered the day she had taken one word as the catalyst and left, and this time, when she left, she took with her the most important fragments he could not keep.

Severus could not bring himself to hold her back.

The day after, it was spread around the school that she had started dating James.

While Lucius crowed about how they were made for each other, the blood traitor and the muggle born, Severus had sat there and stared determinedly at his breakfast, suddenly losing his appetite.

He looked up at the Gryffindor table and met her eyes. There was a defensiveness and a challenge, a little anger and the leftover of betrayal from the night before, where there used to be friendly exasperation and warmth. Possibly care.

She had never been his, after all, he told himself. He couldn't help but curse the fact that no matter how good he was at lying to everyone, he had never been able to lie to himself that well.

He looked away from James' smile and Sirius' smirk.

Lily was better off without him, always had been. Being friends with him, even for a while, was a mistake she should never have made.

_A little bonus:  
_Every time he saw Lily with James when he was doing homework alone under the willow by the river, he felt that little well of hurt and _could-have-been_s start to seep through a little.  
(Even though he knew that she was better off without him. Right from the start, she had never given him a second glance, and she was a gryffindor while he was a slytherin, after all. They were never meant to be.)  
Lucius had became distant, and Severus froze him out of his heart, if only to preserve what the image of the person he used to know.  
(But sometimes, when James' snark and Sirius' words hit a little too close to home and he had no one to turn to, he can't help but think that they were both bloody hypocrites themselves. They said that purebloods were the hypocrites, saying that everyone should get a second chance no matter what and conveniently excluding muggle borns from the equation. What they forgot, though, was that ever since the muggle borns started becoming the majority, the rest of the world had never even given slytherins a first chance, let alone a second. And wasn't that just so ironic?)


	11. Hold On For Me (Don't Go)

_Entry #11: _You find a piece of paper on the ground with the word [betrayal]. Cool. Someone's sick and throwing up in the maze. Use your healer knowledge to heal someone who's sick.

[Assuming that Madam Pomfrey was a half-blood of the Selwyn family.]

* * *

Poppy was an inconspicuous person, especially in school. She was a Ravenclaw to the core, preferring to spend all her spare time in the library as opposed to the common room.

During Christmas the first year, she had went back home, brimming with excitement and full of stories to tell her friend.

She hadn't been able to find him at the playground or at the school, so she went to his house.

His mother had opened the door, saw her, glared at her and shut it in her face, muttering something about 'bloody witches and their curses'.

Undeterred, she climbed the tree next to the house and climbed into his bedroom from there.

"Cyrus?" she called, looking under the bed like she used to when they played hide and seek.

She heard the retching sound as she was looking through the wardrobe.

Immediately, she closed the door and went to the toilet, opening it to see her friend throwing up into the toilet bowl. She was rooted to the spot as he heaved yet again before straightening up and stumbling to the wash basin to splash his face with water.

He met her eyes in the mirror.

"Hi, Poppy," he croaked.

He looked different.

He had less hair, for one. He also had eyebags.

The most obvious difference was his expression, though.

He had stopped smiling.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

He smiled a little at her, although she could see that he was no longer used to the expression.

"I don't know," he replied.

She went to hug him. He was so much skinnier than she remembered.

"Have you been eating right?"

"I eat as much as I used to, Poppy. You're sounding like my mother."

There. That sounds like the Cyrus she used to know.

"Then what happened?"

"I really don't know. It was a few weeks after you left, when I started throwing up almost everything I eat."

"It could be that my absence made you sick?" she joked weakly, all while trying to see if the symptoms sound like something she had read about. A glance at the toilet bowl revealed that there was blood in the vomit.

She looked at him, alarmed. "You've been throwing up blood, too?"

He looked at the door. "I know that's not supposed to happen, but…"

"Come with me," she urged, tugging him along, going towards the window.

"Where are we going?" He put up barely the token resistance that was expected of him.

"I'm going to try and make some blood-replenishing potion, and possibly some of that nausea potion my potions teacher had told me I could try over the holidays."

"Potions?" he squawked as she climbed down the tree.

From the ground, she shushed him. "Keep your volume down, you're mother doesn't like me for some reason and she cannot know that I am actually a witch."

As he clambered down, she was worried for a moment as he almost lost his balance quite a few times.

"Are you really going to make potions?"

"They said that magic was not allowed, but no one said anything about brewing potions, so I would be doing that."

"Can I watch?" he whispered excitedly as they made their way to her room.

"Why do you think I brought you here?"

They made a little progress over that holiday, with him gradually gaining back some weight and looking a little healthier, before she had to go back to Hogwarts.

"Stay well, alright? I'll send you what I could," she had told him before going back to Hogwarts.

He gave her that half-smile of his, the most he could do for the entire holiday, as he promised that he would hold on for her.

Through out school term, she read through every medical book there was in the library to look for a cure.

She learnt a lot. Just, nothing that could help her with him.

As summer holidays neared, Poppy grew progressively worried. She had sent him potions whenever she could, sometimes with new concoctions the books suggested and they always came back empty with a letter attached to them (she had explained that owls deliver letters for wizards and witches, which he had accepted with a wide-eyed look). The letters became shorter and shorter, though.

His handwriting was also progressively messier, and they spoke less on how things were going on out there, instead, telling her to let her owl know to come only at night, and how his mother seemed to be hiding something from him.

The most recent owl she sent returned without a letter.

The first thing she did when she went back was to go to his house, opting to go directly through the window route.

He was asleep, in the middle of the day.

His mother was there, too, holding his hand and looking as if she had not slept for weeks.

She looked up and saw Poppy. Her expression changed to fury as she stood up from the chair and marched towards the window.

"Witch," she hissed, picking up the quill laying by Cyrus' bed. "Cursed child. Begone!"

She tried to stab Poppy with the sharp end of the quill.

Startled, she scooted backwards and almost lost her balance.

Cyrus' mother slammed the window shut and drew the curtains shut.

She sat there, unable to forget his gaunt face.

How sick was he, really?

The next time she went there, the tree was gone. She tried to climb the walls with a sticking charm. His mother was still sitting there, although this time, she never saw her.

She tried to approach him many time, throughout the summer, but his mother was always there.

On the last day before school, she finally managed to get him alone and awake.

"Hey," he said weakly.

"Hey," she whispered back, taking his hand.

"Still throwing up?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered. "Your potions help, but they're no longer working as well," he continued. She could see him make an effort to smile at her.

For her.

It made her throat go dry, for some reason.

She really tried, going as far as asking her grandmother for books different illnesses and how to treat them, even though she knew that her grandmother hated her for being 'tainted', scorning her other for not being true to the Selwyn name and marrying a muggle born instead. She got a few curt replies and a few books, and that was it.

No matter how many potions she fed him, he only got better for a while before getting worse.

She had not wanted to go back to Hogwarts, she wanted to stay and help him, but she knew that there was nothing more she could do.

And when he passed on during Christmas Eve when they were thirteen, no one needed to know that she was there during his last moments while everyone else was celebrating.

No one needed to know that she had mourned for him in her room, silently swearing that her life will be henceforth dedicated to the medicinal profession. She promised herself that no one, no matter who they are, will not die in her care again as long as she was able to do anything to save them.

And no one needed to know why she always spend Christmas Eve beside a small little tomb stone in a village no one has heard of, talking about her career and all the patients she had met in the past year.

_A little bonus:  
_Poppy first met Cyrus when she was four.  
According to her mother, the first thing the boy had said to her was "Why did you take my teddy bear?" and her reply was "She's hurt!"  
She was not quite sure if that was the truth, but she liked to believe that it was. It was sweet, and something she was liable to do at that age.  
They spent the next seven years playing together, since no one else in the town was willing to be her friend. They said that she was a witch, as if it was an insult. She had not quite understood why, since she was actually a witch, but Cyrus was the only one who came back to play with her even though everyone else told him not to.  
When she went off to Hogwarts at eleven, he had smiled and told her that he always knew that there was something different about her.  
She had never thought that that would be the last time she would see him smile like that.  
That the next time she saw him smile that way, it would be Christmas Eve, and he would be seconds away from death.


	12. Kiss

_Entry #12: _She devoted her life to [healing]. Excellent job. There's a kissing booth in the maze and you see your crush is working there. Get in line and wait for your kiss.

* * *

When their generation was sorted, the wizarding world nearly flipped. First, both Albus Potter and Rose Weasley ended up in Slytherin, and Hugo Weasley became a Ravenclaw together with the Malfoy scion. Jennifer Zabini, daughter of a well-known pureblood, ended up in Gryffindor together with Lilac Parkinson, much to the disgruntlement of their parents, and both of Goyle's children ended up in Hufflepuff. Then, darling Lily Potter ended up in Hufflepuff too, and the whole world thought that the Sorting Hat has gone mad.

During their years there, Headmistress McGonagall introduced the Hogwart's Fair, to be held annually, right before the Summer Holidays start.

In this fair, students were encourage to sign up in groups of at least three, with no two people from the same house, to come up with a booth.

Of course, Scorpius had abstained from the whole thing, choosing to go to his dormitory to do his homework instead.

He had finished the homework for Arithmetic, Potions and Herbology and was halfway through his Transfiguration homework when Rose came bursting into his dorm. Hugo trailed in behind her sheepishly.

"Scorpius! You absolutely cannot spend the last day of school in bed doing your homework!" she exclaimed, bouncing onto his bed.

Scorpius gave a grunt of acknowledgement before glaring at the ink pot, daring it to tip over and spill onto his parchment.

"Oh, come on, don't be such a spoilsport! Anyway," a wicked gleam appeared in her eyes, "you'll like Albus' booth. A lot."

Scorpius sighed as he pushed away his work and sat up, resigned to the fact that she would not be leaving him alone.

"Why would you think that I will be interested in going, anyway?"

"Well, you always support Albus," Hugo supplied helpfully. Scorpius glared at him.

"There's work to be done," he began.

"There's always work to be done," Rose reasoned. "And you have the whole summer holidays to finish it. So have some fun! Live a little!"

When it was obvious Scorpius was not responding, she added, "I dare you to go visit Albus' booth."

Scorpius thought about it. "What will you do if I visit?"

She smiled at him. "I'll stop trying to set you up on a date for a year."

They both knew that he would not refuse the dare.

Hugo simply looked as if he wanted to say something to Scorpius, but thought better of it when Rose gave him a _look_.

"Deal."

This, was how he, a Malfoy, ended up in the queue for a _kissing booth_, of all places, and one that was manned by a Potter.

He gave Rose yet another scathing look as he shuffled forward, cursing himself for agreeing. He should have known that she would not simply give up on getting him hooked up with someone so easily. She looked triumphant, while behind her, Hugo looked on guiltily. Scorpius returned his gaze to the queue, half wishing that it would hurry up and half wishing that it would not.

From what he could see, Albus, James and Lily took turns, and counting the number of people in front of him, he would get James.

Scorpius almost wilted in relief.

Before Rose dragged Hugo into the queue with her.

In front of Scorpius.

"Hey," Scorpius protested.

Rose grinned at him.

"Well, you have to admit, James is a real catch. A Quidditch player who works out in his spare time, he must be ripped." Hugo gagged in front of Rose. She glared at him before continuing. "And Hugo here has had a crush on Lily for the longest time. So, you have to begrudge him a chance to kiss her."

Hugo looked at her in horror. "I do not-"

Rose cut him off with a hand on the mouth. "And you, Scorpius. I know that you have a crush on Albus, have had a crush on him since you were eleven and first met him at the train station, and I'm pretty sure that that crush actually developed before that, when our families first met in the shopping mall, yes, I know about your obsession with the colour green at that age, but you have not acted on it even though it is now the sixth year you were in the same school together and that UST is simply suffocating me. I swear, if I have to see you look like a kicked puppy one more time when he holds hand with another girl in public, I will march up to him and tell him that you like him and have him ask you out in front of the whole school. So you will do this, or gods help me, I will make this happen no matter what."

She emphasised the last sentence with her hands on her hips.

Scorpius looked at her.

"I...Alright."

Hugo looked shocked when Rose finished her rant.

Luckily for Scorpius, no one else in the line heard her.

The end of the line neared.

Scorpius could practically hear the death bell tolling.

"Pucker up," James said.

Rose complied. As she strode past Scorpius, she was grinning.

Leaning over, she whispered, "He's a great kisser. I bet Albus would be, too."

Scorpius could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks.

He gave her his most withering look, although he was pretty sure the effect was somewhat diminished by his blush.

"Hugo?" Lily sounded genuinely surprised.

Hugo refused to look at her as he pecked her on the cheek and shuffled off.

It was Scorpius' turn.

For a moment, he considered running for it, but Rose's hand on his shoulder gave him pause.

Kissing his crush once and be done with it, or one year of going on blind dates to appease Rose?

The latter sounded more appealing at the moment.

However...

Steeling his nerve, he leant forward and kissed Albus on the lips.

A touch, and that was it.

It tingled, and he wanted more, yearned for more, but…

He pulled back, turned around, not wanting to see how Albus would react. He can't react too badly, since he did sign up to man this booth, but Scorpius really did not want to know.

He forced himself to smirk at Rose. "I did it, alright? No more dates for the whole of next year."

Rose studied him, as if looking for something.

She sighed, then said, "I promised, didn't I? No more dates for the whole of next year."

Somehow, the victory felt hollow.

_A little bonus:  
_It was night of the graduation and everyone was mostly drunk on the alcohol passed around. Scorpius knew that he was a lightweight, but he pretended to have drunk at least a couple of drinks, for Rose's sake, before he snuck back to his bed.  
He was shocked to find that someone had already taken over his bed. A tuft of black hair was the only thing visible in the cocoon of blanket.  
Who would sleep in his bed?  
He was about to yank the covers off and demand his bed back when someone behind him said, "Didn't you promise you would stay until the party was over?"  
He turned around. "Rose…"  
She sighed. "I get it, you don't like to party, but you need to start living a little!"  
She paused, seeing his bed.  
"And who may that be?" she questioned, marching up to the bed.  
Scorpius turned, about to tell her that he would just go back to the party, when she pulled the cover down.  
He felt faint when he saw the occupant of his bed.  
She turned to him, both eyebrows raised now.  
"What, exactly, is Albus doing in your bed?"


	13. The End Of Time

_Entry #13: _Now that is a [morning] [surprise]. You approach the next gate and read the sign: What has hands but cannot clap? Tell about the Weasley's.

* * *

The clock faithfully tracked the status and location of the members of the Weasley family every day, letting whoever saw it know what was happening to any Weasley.

It had been there since a long, long, time ago, given life by a young wizard who had discarded it and taken in by a redhead who thought it deserved a chance. It shed its hands whenever a member of the Weasley clan has passed on and grew a new one when a new Weasley was brought into the world, or into the family.

It had rejoiced when Molly had joined the family, and grew hands one by one as new little bundles of joy arrived and the family continued to expand. For a while, it had considered adding the little boy who stays over every year during the time when most of the family would be home, but eventually decided against it. The boy would eventually become part of the family through marriage, it concluded. And so it waited.

When the second wizarding war started, the clock watched and worried alongside Molly, unable to do anything except watch, wait, faithfully reporting the status. There was only one period of time prior to this which the clock could recall having the whole family constantly in mortal peril, and that time, no one had been harmed.

The clock hoped that it would be so this time too.

When Fred died, the clock mourned. It turned its hands a pure, midnight black, and kept it that way until the period of mourning was over.

Then, it celebrated together with the family as new members joined, and in time, there were even more Weasleys to take care of than there ever was.

The clock did not mind, as that was its purpose, has been and always would be.

_A Little Bonus:  
_In time, this group of Weasleys would pass on, too, and they would become history to the rest of the world.  
The clock would mourn, as it always does, and make a little space in its core, its heart, to store their stories and memories, for the time when someone finally decides that they wanted to listen, and look into the past.  
Then it would celebrate new life, new blood, in a cycle it had been faithful to from the start.  
It would remember stories the rest of the world had forgotten, guarding them with all it had and keeping history alive, till the end of time and possibly beyond.


	14. The Door

_Entry #14: _The [clock] was able to fulfill its true purpose of telling [time] forever. Good job. You hear noise up ahead. Someone put Mrs Black's portrait in here and she's screeching about blood traitors and filth at someone who just ran past. Ask her who it was so she can lead you to the exit.

* * *

It was summer holidays once more, and both Rose and Hugo are staying at the Black Manor with Lily, Albus and James.

They had invited Scorpius over, too, in the spirit of interhouse bonding.

So far, it was pretty routine, and they got bored of it pretty soon.

So, to spice things up, Lily had suggested they play hide and seek.

Only, there would be two seekers and the playing ground is the whole house.

The rest had agreed pretty quickly, so Scorpius had felt the pressure to agree too.

That was how he ended up in this accursed corridor.

He was wandering a little aimlessly when he heard the screaming.

"Stains of dishonour, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth!"

The screeches echoed a little emptily in the corridor.

Albus ran towards that sound. It was definitely a horrible person, but somebody is better than nobody, isn't it?

He paused before the portrait, wondering if he should reconsider his decision. It was too late, however. She spotted him around the time he spotted her.

"A Malfoy? Come closer," she commanded.

Scorpius kept his head up and his strides even.

She studied him for a while. "Narcissa's grandson?"

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Her eyes softened a little. Pride infused her voice as she praised, "I see that they still teach the young to be well-mannered. I had been losing hope."

"About…" Scorpius hoped that he sounded suitably interested.

"This generation! What nonsense! Blood traitors and mudbloods running rampant with half-breeds, staining the hallways of my anncestors' home!" she wailed.

"Who was here before me?"

"Who else! That Potter scion, the bane of the Blacks!" Taking a breath, she was prepared to continue when Scorpius cut her off politely.

"If I may, would you mind pointing the way out? It seems that I have gotten lost in these corridors."

She looked at him. "I hope that you are not with those...things that were running around just now, playing that muggle game."

Scorpius smiled evenly at her. "They are unfortunate acquaintances, but I am here because the door showed itself."

She harrumphed at that, before pointing to her right.

"Keep your hand on the right side of the wall, and the place you encounter the portrait of my late husband leads to the door to the house."

"To the house?" The curiosity was genuine now.

She smiled proudly. "The Blacks were well-versed in the Arts, and we are, by far, the only pureblood family to have created a new plane of existence anchored to our own home. As a legacy of the Blacks, you have access to it should any emergencies arise."

She looked serious then. "Come back and visit me, youngster. You have much to learn. Better learn it from someone who is qualified than from those bigoted, prejudiced dishonours to our name and our world."

Scorpius bade her goodbye formally, promising her that he would return. Then, he followed her instructions.

Back at the staircase, he breathed out in relief.

He was glad his father raised him as he did. He was not too sure he could do this every day, if it were his life.

When he turned back, the door was gone, as if it had never been around. The empty portrait stood there in its place.

_A little bonus:  
_After the war, Harry dedicated an inordinate amount of time to clearing out the Black Mansion.  
The first thing he discovered was that the third floor had a tendency to disappear as it feels like, leaving him to go directly to the fourth floor. He found out that it opened to a maze-like structure. He had not thought much of it as he closed the door to the corridor and went back to doing his spring cleaning.  
One of the few accomplishments was the fact that he managed to remove Mrs. Black's portrait. Usually, when he went up the stairs, the third set of corridor led to the attic directly, but, for some reason, he ended up in the maze-like third floor.  
He had shrugged, not thinking much about it and just mostly grateful that he had managed to silence Mrs. Black. He left her portrait hanging in one of the rooms there.  
He had forgotten which room he had left it in even as he walked down the stairs once more.  
The floor was not particularly interested in letting him back once more, never again revealing itself. Eventually, Harry forgot about it.


	15. You're (Not) My Star

_Entry #15: _You step through the small [door] in the gate and continue through the maze. You see a couple up ahead making googly-eyes at each other. Break them up so you don't have to see them anymore.

* * *

Harry was not entirely sure when this started.

This, being finding the idea of being around Ginny for an excessive amount of time repulsive.

Well, not repulsive, just.

He could no longer picture it clearly.

It scared him, as it felt like it was just yesterday when they were giddy in love and tripping over each other, so entwined that it was almost impossible to separate them. When their families teased them during dinner for making googly eyes at each other, causing the others to behave as if they were nauseous and sick of this behaviour.

Except, he could not even recall the last time they had made out, let alone fallen into bed together. Was it the anniversary three years ago? He knew that he and Ginny were drifting apart, but he could not recall why. Or when it started. Maybe it had always been like this.

But they were sweet once, too, weren't they? Why else would they have gotten together?

He could remember the time before they were married, and their honeymoon, but afterwards… afterwards, he could remember James, Albus, Lily, and that was it. That was what his life had revolved around. What happened to Ginny?

He tried to rectify it, the moment he noticed the distance between them. He marked out the anniversaries, the times Ginny had time, and tried to free it up. Except, something more important always cropped up, so each time, he would sigh and cross it off, before vowing to go through with it the next time.

Harry was not entirely sure when he started finding the idea of being around Ginny repulsive. Well, not repulsive, just. He and Ginny were drifting apart, and he could not recall why, or even when it started.

It felt like just yesterday when they were being teased for making googly eyes at each other over the table.

For example, he could not remember the last time they had dinner together, with or without their kids. When he was around, Ginny was always busy with her journalist work, and when she had time, he had auror duty.

He tried to rectify it, set aside a time to spend with Ginny. The thing was, something more important always cropped up, so each time, he vowed to go through with it 'the next time'.

He should have seen it coming.

When Ginny slapped the piece of paper down on the table and declared that they should get divorced, he stared up at her blankly.

She sighed.

"We've not been a couple for very long, Harry. It's better this way."

He stared at her even more.

She looked faintly annoyed. Flourishing the quill at him, she demanded, "Just sign it, doofus."

It was all over so surprisingly quickly and painlessly.

Especially when they were breaking the news to their children and to the Weasleys.

Harry had not expected a 'Finally' from all of them, including their friends, who happened to be around.

Was his marriage over that long ago?

Why did everyone see it coming but him?

There was so many questions, and no one to answer them.

He was surprised to find that 'why' was not on the list.

"I can't explain, Harry, but it felt like… it felt like being with you had always been an expectation, a hope, something everyone wanted and only I was lucky enough to have. Maybe that was why I had held on that long."

He had once told her that she was his star, the guiding light when the night was dark and the moon was happened to the future they had promised each other?

Life happened, Harry supposes.

It was not hard. In fact, it was a little too easy.

At the ruins of their relationship, they rebuilt their friendship.

It became so obvious that they were better off as friends than they were as a couple.

Maybe that's why.

The reason why she was no longer his star.

_A little bonus:  
_It was only a little while after the Great War.  
They had won.  
Now they had their whole lives ahead of them.  
It was exhilarating.  
For someone who had never had much of a life, he was suddenly free, from the burden of a prophecy, from expectations, and he could choose for himself. Sure, he was a little lost, but it was temporary, right?  
Besides, he had Ginny.  
They would get through this together.  
"You'll love me forever, right?" she whispered, breaking his train of thoughts as she entwined her fingers with his.  
"You're my darling, has been and always would be," he promised, kissing her on the cheek, before turning back to watch the sunset with her.  
It was beautiful, the way the last rays of sunlight caught the plains and set it on fire briefly, giving everything a new breath of life, and, at the same time, taking it away, for it would be gone in a second or so.  
He never once thought that this was how his love with Ginny truly was, in the end.


	16. Something Off

_Entry #16 _ And with that the [divorce] papers are signed. Harsh. You keep trekking through the maze and you see someone up ahead. What is she/he wearing? Tell her secretly (or loudly, I don't care) that something is wrong with their outfit.

* * *

Teddy was pretty sure the girl in front of him was not Victoria.

The girl he knew would never wear something this…

Exotic?

Weird.

Yes, that was the right word for it.

She had Victoria's eyes, however, and she had looked at him earnestly, anticipation clear, waiting for his approval. She had looked away a little bashfully when he continued gaping at her, too, as if she had not expected this and did not know how she should behave.

That. That was wrong too.

That was not Victoria, either.

He quickly scanned the vicinity. She was the only one who could possibly be Victoria.

His eyes landed on her once more.

His throat clammed up. What should he say to her? 'I love you, Victoria, and I know that this is our first date, but I would have appreciated it if you had just come in muggle jeans and T-shirts, or even school robes, as opposed to this...this…'

He realised, then, that he had blurted out his thoughts.

She was staring at him now, a little confused and shocked.

He should have complimented her, right? Teddy was panicking a little now, internally. Had he just insulted her? Did he make her unhappy? Would that lead to her no longer liking him, then to

Right. He was overthinking this.

He had to rectify his mistake, though.

As she opened her mouth to speak, he hurriedly amended, "I mean, you look beautiful in this...clothings, but I like you in normal clothes, too, clothes that are less… revealing and more conservative, unle- even if you want to wear this normally, but robes and pants or skirts or dresses -"

"It's alright," she cut in.

"This is a little extreme, isn't it?"

Teddy paused, recognising that there was no signs of a potential argument yet. Cautiously, he replied, "Yes."

She grinned at him. "Lily and Rose had helped, of course, but I'm not too comfortable in this. Should we change our plans and go shopping instead?"

_A little bonus:  
_As they walked home because Victoria wanted to enjoy the evening breeze and sights, Teddy admired the way she looked in the jeans and tank top, with a hoodie.  
"By the way, Teddy," she spoke up, interrupting the peaceful silence.  
"Yes?"  
"Those clothes I was wearing earlier?"  
"Yes…?" Teddy hesitated a little now, not knowing where she was leading with this.  
She turned to him, smirking.  
"They're called lingerie."  
Teddy stared at her, trying to place the words.  
He recalled Ginny talking about it once, about how it's meant to…  
Red flooded his face as Victoria laughed. "I just knew it! You know what it is, in context, but you don't recognise it!"


End file.
